


I'm Not An Angel

by belabee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-19 03:52:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13696308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belabee/pseuds/belabee
Summary: Sam and Dean run into an blast from their past, and old secrets come to light.





	1. On The Day That You Met Me And Lost Your Way

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know. I still have a bunch of other works to update but I'm stuck on those ones and this one just kind of popped out of nowhere while I was listening to Halestorm's I'm Not An Angel. It turned out waaaaay longer than I intended. I've got like 5k words written.  
> I'm always a sucker for the boys prostituting themselves for survival reasons. :P

Everyone always talked about how codependent the boys were. “There's just something not quite right about those two, ” they’d murmur to one another when they thought the boys couldn't hear them. 

But even as much as Sam complained about not being ‘normal’, neither of them had ever truly cared about what the rest of the world thought about them. 

The world wasn't there for them, why should they care about their opinions?

The only opinions that they did concern themselves with were the opinions that they had of each other.

 

For Dean, Sam was the Sun and Moon. Dean would do whatever it took to keep Sam happy, healthy, and safe. Even if it meant doing without for himself for a while, or doing things… Not quite  _ legal _ . His Sam deserved the world, even if the world didn't deserve him. 

 

For Sam, Dean was a superhero. The man he aspired to be; noble, strong, intelligent, selfless. Beautiful. He knew he'd never be quite as good and pure as Dean, but he’d do his damnedest to try. Dean deserved at least that much. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The boys were in yet another seedy roadside bar in yet another Bumfuck, Nowhere, USA, ‘celebrating’ after ganking another poltergeist. 

 

Sam hadn't particularly felt like celebrating, but he just couldn't say no to Dean when he got that look of childlike glee on his face that was so rare to see nowadays. 

 

This poltergeist had been a bitch of a case. What they had thought was a simple salt and burn turned topsy turvy when they realized that they'd burned the wrong body because the poltergeist had actually been the secret twin that nobody currently alive had ever known about. 

“A secret evil twin, Sammy! C'mon man! We ganked an actual evil twin!” Dean had enthused as he got ready to go out. “This totally calls for a celebration!” 

Sam couldn't help but shake his head with a grin. “Yeah, yeah alright. Give me a sec and I'll be right with you.”

 

So here they were, Sam sitting at the bar, watching as Dean expertly hustled a group of college students on a road trip.

 

Unless drugged or hexed, Sam would never tell anyone just how beautiful he thought Dean was. Dean could be covered in blood, guts, and dirt ( _ or cum. NO, stop thinking like that)  _ and he'd still be more breathtaking than any runway model or celebrity. 

And Sam would always be the nerdy awkward little brother. No matter how much muscle he gained, how many books he read on social interaction, how many girls ( _ and guys) _ he tried to woo, he just could never compare to his brother.

Wherever they went, Dean's presence just  _ commanded _ attention. It didn't matter how straight you thought you were, Dean would make you question that belief. 

 

Not that Dean ever saw it now. He'd aged, they both had. Gone were the youthful curves, smooth skin; they were replaced with laugh lines, gray hairs, and eyes that told stories that you knew you didn't really want to know. The soft smoothness that made it easier to ignore those danger vibes he occasionally let slip were no longer there, though he was still as charming as ever. But the types of girls that he used to chase were no longer as easy to get in bed as they used to be. Not that he'd ever let it show, and he'd deck you if you ever implied it, but it'd done a number on his ego. 

 

But Sam could see it because he knew his brother. He knew when his brother was worried or afraid or insecure about something, and he would do his best to help allay those feelings (despite how crazy he thought it was that Dean felt insecure about anything), not that he was any good at that. But he tried. And he could only hope that that counted for something.

 

Sam smiled as he watched Dean lull the college kids into a false sense of security. He played up the cute, drunk, old man trying to relive his glory days schtick and the young girls of the group were eating it up, giggling and cooing, telling their boyfriends to not go so hard on the ‘old guy’.

He chuckled, wondering if these girls were going to be the type that would cream themselves once Dean started showing his real skill, or if they would be the type to get pissed right along with their boyfriends for being played.

 

When the door to the bar opened, Sam was momentarily distracted from the game. And the man that stood in front of the doorway made his blood run cold. 

 

_ Oh God, no.  _ Sam spun around in his chair, facing away and ducking his head to hide his face with his hair.  _ What the fuck is  _ **_he_ ** _ doing here?! Fuck fuck fuck please don't recognize me please don't recognize me.  _

 

To be honest, Sam was a little surprised that he recognized the man. It'd been years. They'd been essentially kids back then. Well, Sam had been for sure. 

But there was no way he'd ever forget those piercing grey eyes or the way he walked like he owned the world or the constant smirk he always had on his face.

 

Sam curled himself around his beer, hunching his shoulders trying to make himself as small as he could. Which was difficult for a man in his mid-thirties, and perhaps that's what gave him away. Sam had been an insecure kid the last time he'd seen this guy, after all. 

 

“Well, bless my stars. Sam? Sam Winchester!” The man said loudly, clapping Sam on the shoulder. Sam flinched minutely but straightened and faced the man with a smile. He would not be the meek little boy this time. 

“Hey Seth, it's been a while,” Sam said, glancing at Dean, hoping to hell that he didn't recognize where they might have known Seth from. Dean's eyes were narrowed as he watched them. Not that the college kids had noticed his lack of attention to the game: basically everyone was staring at the two tall gorgeous men at the bar. 

“Hell, I'd say! And boy did you ever fill out,” Seth replied, not even trying to be subtle as he checked Sam out. Sam shivered in disgust at the heat in Seth's eyes.

Seth gracefully sat on the stool next to Sam, not once taking his eyes off of him, and motioned to the bartender. “So, Sammy,” he drawled quietly after ordering his drink. “What're your rates these days?” 

Sam flushed furiously. “Seth!” He whispered indignantly as he looked around to make sure no one had heard. “I told you before. That was a one-time thing. It never happened again, and it's not happening  _ now _ ,” he said firmly. 

Seth raised an eyebrow, disbelieving. “Well, I suppose you could only sell off your virginity once.” He paused, eyes roaming down Sam's body to rest on his ass. Sam had to fight to not squirm. “Though, with an ass like that, I bet no one would care if you lied to them about it.”

 

“Lied to them about what?” 

 

Sam damn near jumped about a foot high off his stool at the sound of Dean's voice right next to his ear. 

 

Seth turned his attention to Dean, and his smirk grew. “I shoulda figured that where one Winchester was, the other one wouldn't be very far away,” he said, giving Dean the same appraising look that he'd given Sam. To Sam's surprise, a pale pink blush dusted Dean's freckles. “You filled out just as well as your brother here did.” Seth's expression brightened. “Say you two ever thought about doing a package deal? I bet you'd really rake in the money then! Even at your age! People love the whole ‘daddy’ shtick.”

 

Seth really should have seen that right hook coming. 


	2. I Used To Be The One WIth The Halo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! The next chapter is probably gonna be a little while. I think I want to rewrite it. :P Let me know what you think!

Sam was stuck dragging Dean out of the bar, with Seth being manhandled by the bartender, laughing as Dean tried to get at him. “Y'all wanna fight? Do it out here,” the bartender said tiredly as he walked back into the bar. 

Seth chuckled, spitting out blood onto the gravel as he staggered to his feet. “You Winchesters are sure somethin’ else, ya know that?” 

Dean just glared at him, fists clenched tight and Sam's hand resting on his shoulder. 

“You'd think that after being in the business this long, you'd have better manners with your potential clients.” 

“You shut your mouth,” Dean growled through clenched teeth. “Sammy would have  _ never _ stooped as low as that.” Sam tensed, looking down.  _ Fuck… _

Seth stared at them. “Holy shit,” he breathed out. “Y'all really don't know? After all these years, you still don't know?”

“I told you. To shut. Your. Mouth.” Dean ground out as he stalked his way over to Seth. 

Seth's eyes widened as he backpedalled away from Dean. “Neither of you told the other? Seriously? The two brothers closer than any I'd ever seen, ” he started laughing. “Oh man, if y'all had talked to each other I bet you both probably could've gotten an even better deal than you did.”

Dean lunged, and Sam was stock-still where he stood.  _ What did he mean by we  _ **_both_ ** _ could have gotten a better deal? _

“Dean?” He asked quietly. Dean froze. “What's he talking about? What does he mean by both?”

Dean straightened, like he'd just realized what Seth had said. He spun around and his look of fury was now directed at Sam. Unfortunately for Dean, Sam had long since gotten used to receiving that look from his brother. A fact that never ceased to prod at the cracks in his heart whenever he remembered just how badly and how often he'd let down the most important person in his life. 

“I should be asking  _ you _ that Sam. I know what I did. I did what I had to so we could survive!” Seth scoffed and Dean kicked backwards at him, nailing him in the side. “But Sammy…” Dean's face fell, anger suddenly deflating. “You were just a kid! What were you doing getting caught up with the likes of him?”

Sam looked away. He could bear his brother’s anger towards him. But he could never bear it when Dean's eyes filled with pain and sorrow like that. He looked down at Seth, who was still sprawled on the ground. He hadn't managed to scramble away fast enough before Dean got a few good hits in, and was now sporting a swollen black eye, a broken and bloody nose, and, with the way he was holding his side, ribs that were at least fractured, if not broken.

Seth started laughing again as he dragged himself up and away from Dean. “Ohh Deano, Deano, Deano. What, you thought you were the only enterprising one of the Winchester brothers? Hell, I'm surprised you didn't notice him in the lineup. I mean we used fake names and all, but you'd think you at least notice if your brother was in the lineup next to you?”

Both Sam and Dean paled, eyes wide at what Seth had revealed. Dean's face crumpled. “Sammy, no…” he whispered, and Sam lowered his head in shame.

Funny how after all they'd been through, he was still letting his brother down with almost twenty-year-old mistakes.

 

~~~~~~

 

Dean remembers that night. It was one of those nights that would never leave him. No matter how many drinks he drank to try to scrub it from his memory. 

It was shortly before Sam had ditched them for Stanford. Dad had been gone for a while and had left them in some podunk little town just outside of Reno. Dean had been itching to go and hustle them some good money for once. But Sam, the little nerd, wanted to get a head start on studying for finals, and wouldn't ‘ _ drive down just for the weekend, come on Sammy _ .’ because he needed ‘ _ to study, Dean. These finals aren't gonna ace themselves. And  _ no, _ I don't need to celebrate my 18th in Reno. I'm fine right here.’ _

But what Dean couldn't tell him was that they were running dangerously low again. They'd heard no word from John. And the jobs they'd both picked up were barely going to cover the motel costs. Not to mention that the town was so poor that Dean just didn't feel right hustling their hard earned cash. 

Not like the chumps who were practically giving away their money over in Reno. 

Dean had been sitting in the little shack that was supposed to pass for a bar when Seth approached him. Of course, he'd been suspicious when he heard Seth's pitch. He'd heard of Seth before, knew what he did. It wasn't a common way for hunters to make money, but the prettier ones could pull it off. And he was getting desperate. They'd enough money for maybe two more nights at the motel, and maybe a couple decent meals left. He needed cash, and quick. It took quite a bit of negotiating before Dean finally agreed, and then quite a bit more discussion before they were both satisfied with the cover story and plan. 

Dean was to meet one of Seth's “girls” a few motel doors down from theirs, and after half an hour (no funny stuff) a car would pick them up and bring them to the warehouse where the auction was to be held. Dean was given the tightest pair of jeans he'd ever worn, and would ever wear after this, no shirt, but a black mask that he could wear even after the  _ transaction _ had been made, to maintain his anonymity, provided that the  _ buyer _ could wear one as well. ‘ _ Quid pro quo, right Deano?’  _

Dean had been so ashamed of what he was doing he only made a cursory glance at the other young men ( _ Jesus, some of them didn't even look  _ legal), to make sure none of them posed any immediate danger to him. 

Now that he was reflecting, he vaguely remembered that the young man ahead of him did resemble Sam. But at the time he hadn't thought anything of it.  

Now though, now he felt the bile rising in his throat, threatening to make him waste that perfectly good burger he'd eaten earlier. 

The young man with brown hair, and hazel eyes, that was bidding away the one thing he had hoped to save for Dean, with the starting bid of a thousand dollars. 

The bid that  _ Seth _ had won, at the price of fifteen thousand dollars. 

Dean himself had earned ten thousand, with his pretty green eyes, plush lips, and  _ conveniently _ bowed legs. It had helped that he looked younger than he had been. 

Dean had always wondered how Sam had bought that bus ticket to Stanford, and where that extra couple thousand had come from that he'd suddenly found in his duffle the night after Sam had left.

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

“Sammy,  _ why _ ?” 

Sam flinched at the heartbroken tone Dean's voice had adopted. 

“Heh, because Sammy here knew you guys were  _ tight _ . Didn't you, sweetheart?” Seth drawled, and Sam flinched at each nickname and the double entendre. 

God, he hated this. He had sworn to himself that if he ever ran into Seth again, he'd at least maintain his dignity. But how could he, now that Dean knew his secret. He'd hoped he could take that secret with him to the grave. With a small handful of others that he'd managed to keep from Dean over the years.

Like just how much that voicemail had torn through him.  
Like how he's nearly killed himself trying to find Dean while he was in Purgatory.  
Like how he knew no matter what he did, he'd never be worthy of being by Dean's side.  
 ~~Like the way he loved Dean~~.  
 ~~Like how before then, he'd hoped to save himself for Dean.~~

 

“And Sammy here  _ loved _ it, didn't you?” Seth sneered. “But not because of how good I made you feel now, was it? You loved it because you were pretending I was Deano over here, weren't you?”

Sam's head snapped up to gawk at Seth.

“Oh yes, dearie. Don’t think I forgot,” he smirked cruelly. “It’s kind of hard to forget the beautiful boy who came on my cock while crying out his big brother’s name.” Sam flushed and looked back down in shame. 

Fuck. There was no way Dean was going to stick around now. Why the hell would he? He’s got a sick son of a bitch for a brother who’s been lying to him for nearly twenty years.

The thud of a body hitting the ground had Sam snapping his head back up. 

“I told you to shut your mouth,” Dean growled down at the now unconscious Seth. He spun around to face Sam with an unreadable expression on his face, and his fists still clenched tight with Seth’s blood on them. Sam held his breath. 

“Let’s go, Sammy,” he said lowly, stalking past Sam towards the Impala. Sam looked at Seth and considered for a moment. 

“Sammy! I said, let’s go! What’re you d-” Dean turned around just in time to see Sam kick Seth swiftly in the groin before following Dean silently into Impala.


	3. To Fly With Me Won't Be Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean have a little heart to heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank [Daydreaming_Scribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daydreaming_Scribe) for betaing the first 2 chapters for me <3 :* I've uploaded the edited versions and I think they flow better now. I'd also like to thank [TFWBT](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TFWBT) when I got stuck in chapter 2.
> 
> I've had a really hard time with writing this past year, despite my best efforts. I've been putting more effort into it lately and hopefully, I'll be able to start posting more regularly. 
> 
> This chapter hasn't been betaed with anything other than my own eyes and Grammarly, so please forgive any mistakes.

The boys trudged into the motel and Sam made his way to where his duffel was on his side of the room as Dean quietly shut the door behind them.

“What’re you doing?” Dean asked quietly.

Sam paused in his task of unzipping his bag. “I...uh. I figured you wanted me outta your hair as soon as possible. I mean, pick a hemisphere, right?” he replied, not meeting Dean's eyes.

God, he hated letting his brother down like this. Just another sin to add to his already long list of unatonable choices.

 

Not looking harder for Dean when he was in Purgatory. Allowing Dean to think that he hadn't tried at all. Ruby and the demon blood. Lilith. Saying yes to Lucifer. Everything he'd done while soulless. Sticking around when he was obviously a burden with his hallucinations. Getting Charlie involved with the Book of the Damned. Setting Amara free. Getting involved with the British Men of Letters. Trying to drown out his love for Dean by getting involved with other people.

 

All of them. All of them  _his_ choices that got people killed. He had no business loving Dean. He had no _right_ to taint Dean with his affections. Dean deserved better. Dean deserved to be as far away from his impure, despicable-

Sam's internal rant of self-hatred was interrupted by two strong arms wrapping around him. Dean's hands rested on Sam's wrists, halting their task of furiously shoving his belongings into his bag.

“Sam. Stop,” Dean said, gently turning him around to face him. When Sam still wouldn't look at him ( Fuck, when had he _started_ crying _?),_ Dean cradled his face in his hands and lifted it to force Sam to look him in his eyes.

“Oh, Sammy,” Dean said, wiped the tears away.  “Shhh, it's _okay._ ” Dean pulled him close, and Sam couldn't help but hide his face in Dean's neck, clutching tightly at his shirt.

Sam choked back a sob, before shoving Dean away. Dean stumbled back a couple steps with a look of hurt shock on his face.

“No, Dean. It's _not_ okay,” he said, angrily wiping the rest of his tears away. “It's not ‘okay’. I'm sick. I'm wrong. Hell, we've known it since day _one_ that something's not right with me.” He stalked away from his brother, furiously pacing the room, grabbing his belongings and throwing them onto his bed. “I've _tried_ to fight this, Dean. I've been fighting this for longer than I can remember. And every time. _Every time_ I break, I let myself be selfish. And _weak_ ,” he said with disgust.  “And every. Time. Someone gets hurt. Or worse. _Dead._ ” He spun around to face Dean.

“You deserve better. Even you've said so. Hell if I could, I'd bring Benny back for you. Because you were right Dean. He'd been a better brother to you, then I'd _ever_ been,” Sam's angry tirade petered out as tears welled up in his eyes again at that last sentence.

“Oh, fuck you, Sammy” Dean said angrily. “Don't throw that old shit back in my face.”

“I'm not! I'm just reminding you what's true! We both know Benny had been more loyal, more _trustworthy_ than I've ever been. And then there was the siren.” Sam threw his arms out to his sides, frustratedly trying to get Dean to see reason. “Even the monsters could see that you deserve a better brother.” Sam pushed past Dean to continue packing his bag.

“Sure, we're stronger together. Sure, there's nothing we can't do if we put our minds to it. But that doesn't mean we're _better_ togetherYou're better off without me. And Cas is back, and Jack is doing fine now that he's got someone to guide him. And who better than the Righteous Man and an angel of the lord to guide his way. Jack would be better off not having the Boy with the Demon Blood to corrupt him. And I can just keep hunting, and you'd be safer, happier-”

Sam was cut off by Dean shoving him against the wall. “Jesus, Sammy. For once in your life just shut the fuck up and _listen_ to me,” Dean said lowly. He rested his forehead on Sam's. “Goddammit, we’ve been _through_ this. None of that shit matters. Come on, Sammy. You're supposed to be the smart one,” he whispered.

“Dean, we both know you're just as smart, if not more than-mmf!” Dean placed a hand over Sam's mouth.

“I thought I told you to shut up,” Dean said, cocking an eyebrow. He smirked when that got him a silent bitch face. “ _There's_ my pain in the ass little brother that I know and love.” Sam's eyes widened. “Yeah, Sammy. I love ya. I know I never say it directly. You know I suck at this touchy-feely shit. But hell, Sammy. I thought you’da figured it out when we stopped the trials. I told you, there is _nothing_ , past or present, that I would put in front of you.”

Sam’s vision started to blur again. He shut his eyes tight to try to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. “No, Sammy. Look at me. _Look_ at me, dammit.” He opened his eyes reluctantly. “Now you listen to me, Sammy, ‘cause you know I ain’t gonna wanna say this shit again.” Dean took a deep breath before continuing. “I know these past few years have been a roller coaster of shit - hell, our entire life has been a roller coaster of shit - and I say stupid hurtful crap all the time. But you _know_ how I get when I get scared when I’m hurting. You know because you know _me_ . And all that shit about deserving better, that’s bullshit. Because there ain’t nothing better for me than you, Sammy. You think I’m mad about you loving me as much as I love you?” Sam gasped under Dean’s hand, eyes wide. “I ain’t mad about that, Sammy. I’m hurt. You deserved better than Seth. And I shoulda done more to protect you from that.” Dean slid his hand away from Sam’s mouth to cup his jaw, touching their foreheads together. “Why the hell didn’t you just _tell_ me?” He whispered brokenly.

“What the hell was I supposed to say, Dean?” Sam whispered. “To be honest, I’ve been trying like hell to just block it out. Just lump it in with all the other nightmares, all the other shit we’ve been through. We both know that compared to everything, compared to _Hell_ , it’s nothing. A drop in the bucket of shit that the universe has thrown at us.”

Dean snorted. “Vivid.”

“ _Dean_ ,” Sam smiled exasperatedly, and Dean chuckled.

They stood there in silence for a few moments, so close that they were breathing each other's air.

“So… um… did, did you really…um..” Dean stammered out quietly, blushing.

Sam smirked. It wasn’t often that he got to see Dean flustered like this. The little brother in him who wasn't dreading the rest of that question couldn't help but want to relish in it. “Did I what?” he prodded in spite of himself.

“Did you really call out my name when you were with _him_?” Dean continued, not meeting Sam's eyes for once.  Sam blushed. _Damn, guess it had been too much to hope that Dean would have forgotten about that part_. “Uhh, uhm, y-yeah,” he replied, looking down.

“Jesus, Sammy.” Dean rasped out and as close as they were, Sam could feel the full body shiver that ran through his body.

“I…I'm sorry, Dean. I really am,” Sam whispered. He closed his eyes, renewed shame fulling him.

“Shh, Sammy. I told you. It's okay,” Dean said pulling Sam closer, wrapping his arms around him. Sam returned the embrace fiercely. “I told you, I'm not mad at you.” Sam closed his eyes and breathed in that nearly forgotten but still familiar scent of home. Of gun oil, and leather, and Dean. “Still, I wish I'd saved it. I'd wanted to,” he whispered.

“I don't think I would've been able to do anything even if you had, sweetheart. It's bad enough I got you mixed up with Seth-”

“Dean, what happened with Seth is on me, not you. I'm the one who decided to taint myself like that. Not that there was much left to taint.” Dean pulled back a little to look Sam in the eyes. “Why do you always do that?” Dean asked, exasperated.

Sam tilted his head, confused. “Do what?”

“That whole impure, tainted thing? You did it during the trials too. Why do you keep painting yourself as less than me?”  Sam jerked his head back a little. Surely Dean wasn't that blind.

“Because you _are_ better than me. Always have been. You're noble and selfless. You're stronger than anyone else I've ever known, and the smartest, most beautiful person. Why do you think Heaven chose you as the Righteous Man?” Sam looked down, “I've never been anything more than the Boy with the Demon Blood, trying fruitlessly to atone for everything I've done.”

“God Sammy, for someone so smart, you sure are an idiot sometimes.” Dean cupped Sam's jaw and tilted his face up. “All that shit? Being good, and strong? All of that has always been for you. And I ain't pure, especially not after all the shit we've been through. I don't give a rat's ass what Heaven has to say about that, we both know that their sense of judgment is more than a little fucked up.”

Dean leaned forward, bringing their faces closer, their lips so close that Sam could almost taste it.

“All I've ever wanted was to be the best that I could be, _for you_. Because to me, you've always deserved the best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next one is gonna take a little bit since it's like twice as long as the rest of the chapters and I'm still trying to find a good point to end it XD  
> Plus it'll actually get to the smut and I'm super nervous about that XD
> 
> I'm still on tumblr (I'll probably go down with that sinking ship): [@belabee](https://belabee.tumblr.com)  
> I'm also on twitter though I'm not very active: [@belabee33](https://twitter.com/belabee33)


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